Whispering Tongues Read online

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  THE GOLDEN HOUR SERIES

  _A new series of books for young people, bound in extra cloth, with illuminated designs, illustrations, and title-pages made especially for each volume_

  A LITTLE DUSKY HERO. By Harriet T. Comstock. THE CAXTON CLUB. By Amos R. Wells. THE CHILD AND THE TREE. By Bessie Kenyon Ulrich. DAISIES AND DIGGLESES. By Evelyn Raymond. HOW THE TWINS CAPTURED A HESSIAN. By James Otis. THE I CAN SCHOOL. By Eva A. Madden. MASTER FRISKY. By Clarence W. Hawkes. MISS DE PEYSTER'S BOY. By Etheldred B. Barry. MOLLY. By Barbara Yechton. THE WONDER SHIP. By Sophie Swett. WHISPERING TONGUES. By Homer Greene.

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  "WILL YOU ALWAYS STRIVE TO UPHOLD THE DIGNITY OF OURMOST NOBLE ORDER?"]

  title page]

  WHISPERING TONGUES

  BY HOMER GREENE

  _New York Thomas Y. Crowell & Co. Publishers._

  Copyright, 1902, By THOMAS Y. CROWELL & CO.

  TO

  Prof. William Wells, LL.D.

  KNOWN AND LOVED BY MANY GENERATIONS OF UNION COLLEGE STUDENTS AS "BILLY WELLS," THIS LITTLE VOLUME IS AFFECTIONATELY INSCRIBED

  "_Alas! they had been friends in youth; But whispering tongues can poison truth; And constancy lives in realms above; And life is thorny and youth is vain; And to be wroth with one we love Doth work like madness in the brain._"

  _SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE._

  CONTENTS.

  PAGE CHAPTER I. THE MOONLIGHT RUSH 9

  CHAPTER II. THE GAMMA QUESTERS 21

  CHAPTER III. BEFORE THE FACULTY 35

  CHAPTER IV. THE QUARREL OF FRIENDS 49

  CHAPTER V. A COWARDLY REVENGE 61

  CHAPTER VI. ALMOST A TRAGEDY 74

  CHAPTER VII. THE WELCOME HOME 87

  WHISPERING TONGUES.

  CHAPTER I.

  THE MOONLIGHT RUSH.

  It's a way we have at Old Concord; It's a way we have at Old Concord; It's a way we have at Old Concord; To drive dull care away.

  One moonlight evening in the early spring, under a cloudless sky, aparty of twelve Concord College Sophomores sang these lines as theymarched up the street toward the college grounds. They were young, allin a happy mood; they kept step to the strokes of their canes on thepavement, and swung along with vigor and elasticity, making the airthrob with their rollicking songs.

  Parmenter was with them. His was the tenor voice that rang out withsuch strength and clearness above the others. He was the leader of hisclass; in favor with the faculty, popular with his fellows, a welcomeguest at any gathering.

  The party passed on up the hill, through the college gate and along theterrace, still singing. They halted in front of Professor Samuel Lee'sresidence, faced toward it and began a new song:

  Here's to Sammy Lee, drink it down, drink it down; Here's to Sammy Lee, drink it down, drink it down; Here's to Sammy Lee, and a right good fellow he; Drink it down, drink it down, Drink it down, down, down, Balm of Gilead, Gilead; Balm of Gilead, Gilead; Balm of Gil-e-ad; Way down on the Bingo farm.

  The last words were hardly out of the mouths of the singers before thedoor of the house was opened, and from the square of light thus made,the old professor himself stepped out upon the porch.

  "Thank you, young gentlemen," he said, pleasantly. "This is a gloriousnight for a song. I've heard students sing along this terrace fortwenty years and more, and I never liked their songs better than I doto-night. The music of them grows upon me always. Thank you again,gentlemen, and good-night!"

  "You're welcome, Sammy!" shouted one irrepressible from the group,while all the rest responded with a hearty "Good-night!"

  No one intended to be disrespectful to Professor Lee. The use of hisnickname was meant as a mark of affection, and he understood it so. Butin the classroom his dignity was never trespassed upon. There were oneor two good stories handed down from class to class, narrating thejust fate that befell audacious students of the past who had venturedto be rude to "Sammy." These possibly apocryphal incidents made himmore popular, and in private he was the trusted friend of every studentat Concord College.

  Besides that, he had a boy of his own--an only child, with whom he keptin close sympathy, and in whom the best and brightest of all his hopeswere centered. This boy, Charley, was a member of the Sophomore Class.He was a bright, lovable, popular fellow, impetuous, perhaps somewhatlacking in stability, but likely to become a worthy if not a brilliantman.

  He came out now upon the porch, just as his father turned to go in, andstood for a moment peering into the group on the walk as if trying tomake out the identity of the persons who composed it. He was no soonerseen by his classmates than another song broke from their lips:

  Here's to Sammy's son, bring him down, bring him down: Here's to Sammy's son, bring him down, bring him down: Here's to Sammy's son, for he's always full of fun; Bring him down, bring him down, bring him down, down, down, down.

  Young Lee recognized the tenor voice in a moment. He and Parmenter werebosom friends. Their companions had long ago dubbed them Damon andPythias.

  "Hello, Fred!" cried Lee, "are you there? Hello, fellows! Is there roomfor me?"

  "Always room for one more," was the reply. "Move up, please! Move upnow and let the gentleman aboard! Why don't you help him on, Freddie?Help him on; he's yours."

  There was more good-natured bantering. Then the party faced toward thecampus and started on, singing a good-night song to Professor Lee:

  Good-night, Sammy! Good-night, Sammy! Good-night, Sammy! We're going to leave you now. Merrily we roll along, roll along, roll along; Merrily we roll along O'er the deep blue sea.

  The steps sounded in unison, the heavy canes beat time, and back fromthe campus, mellowed by the growing distance, came still the music ofthe song:

  Sweet dreams, Sammy! Sweet dreams, Sammy! Sweet dreams, Sammy! We're going to leave you now.

  Through a half-open window the words came floating softly into the earsof Professor Lee, and he smiled as he thought of the real affection andseeming irreverence of the boys. Though his hair was white with years,his heart was very youthful.

  He liked young men, and sympathized with them. He entered heartilyinto both their work and play. He enjoyed their fun, approved of theirgames, and was the champion of athletics at Concord. But the doubtfulsport of hazing he detested with his whole soul, and did not hesitateto say so.

  Every one was aware of his feeling on this subject, but there were fewwho knew why it was so deep. In a distant
city, confined in an asylumfor the insane, Professor Lee's only brother had lived for years, animbecile. His condition was the direct result of injuries received atthe hands of college hazers in his youth.

  With this sorrow shadowing his life, it is not strange that hazing wasan object of horror and hatred in Professor Lee's thoughts.

  The party of students, now headed by Parmenter and Lee, passed onacross the campus, still singing. From the shadows of North College thetall figure of a young man emerged and came toward them. In the brightmoonlight he was recognized at once as Van Loan, a man who had recentlyentered the Freshman class, coming from another college.

  He had brought with him a reputation for mental ability and physicalstrength that gave him at once a prominent position among his fellows.But he was inordinately vain. He did not hesitate to boast of hiswealth, of his aristocratic lineage, and of his superior attainments.

  There is no community so thoroughly democratic as a community ofstudents; and while Van Loan's real ability met with the respect itdeserved, his vanity and arrogance made him obnoxious.

  To-night he was dressed in the height of fashion. His costly clotheswere a perfect fit. But the articles of ornament and apparel whichparticularly attracted the attention of the Sophomores who approachedhim were his high silk hat and his heavy cane.

  It was an unwritten law among the students at Concord College thatFreshmen should not wear silk hats or carry canes before reaching theirthird term. Any violation of this law was sure to bring on a classrush, in which the winning side secured and preserved the offensivearticles of costume as trophies and emblems of their victory.

  Yet here was a Freshman, in the midst of the second term, approaching agroup of Sophomores with a cane in his hand and a silk hat on his head!Apparently he saw danger ahead of him, for he stopped a moment.

  "What is it?" asked some one in the group, as they came up to Van Loan.

  "It must be Wilson's dummy come to life," replied another. Wilson wasthe college tailor.

  Van Loan heard these uncomplimentary remarks, and his face flushed withanger. He started boldly on, turning to the right as if to pass by thegroup. But half a dozen Sophomores intercepted him.

  "What do you fellows mean by this impertinence?" he asked, curtly.

  "We mean," replied Parmenter, "that Freshmen are not yet allowedto carry sticks or wear 'plugs.' As you came here recently, from aone-horse college, perhaps you were not aware of this rule. If not, weshall be pleased to escort you to your room, where you can lay thesehighly objectionable articles of apparel away, and let them grow withyour growth until it is time for you to wear them. But if you haveknowingly and deliberately violated our rule, we--"

  "What business is it of yours what I carry or wear?" interrupted VanLoan, hotly. "Stand aside and let me pass, or some one will get hurt!"

  "Having declined our offer to escort you to your room," continuedParmenter, coolly, "we shall be obliged to ask you to deliver up to usat once the articles I have named."

  "You shall not have them!" replied Van Loan, savagely. "I dare any oneof you to come and get them. I dare all of you to take them away! Youare cowards and bullies, every one of you!"

  Nevertheless, as the Sophomores approached him he backed out into theroad, retreating steadily until he came to the edge of a muddy pool ofwater left by the melting snows.

  "You are robbers!" he shouted, fiercely. "What right have you to stop agentleman in the public road and demand his property?"

  "The right that might makes," came the quick reply from some one in thegroup.

  The Sophomores were gradually encircling their victim. Van Loan glancedabout him nervously, and clutched his cane as if to make ready foraction.

  "Give them up peaceably, and we won't even disturb the part in yourhair," said some one.

  "And be quick about it, too," said another, "for tempus is fastfugiting."

  Another body of students, scenting sport and trouble from afar, wasrapidly approaching from the direction of South College. The circleabout Van Loan was completed and contracting. He saw that his only hopelay in holding his enemies at bay until help should arrive from his ownclassmen. Yet he could not face all ways at once.

  "Come, here's the last word," said Robinson, who recognized the mennow bearing down on them as members of the Freshman class; "will yousurrender the obnoxious articles peaceably, or won't you?"

  Van Loan, too, saw that assistance was at hand, and his courageincreased accordingly.

  "Never!" he shouted. "These things are mine, and I'll keep them, andthe first man that lays his hands on them or me, I'll break his--"

  What it was that Van Loan would have broken, no one ever knew; forParmenter, advancing quickly to his side, tripped him so suddenly anddexterously that he measured his full length in the shallow, muddypool into which he had been too dainty to step.

  In the same instant Lee snatched the cane from his grasp, and Robinsoncaught the silk hat as it fell.

  But the victory was short-lived. Van Loan's assailants turnedwith their trophies only to find themselves face to face with andoutnumbered by a party of Van Loan's classmates, who plunged at once tothe rescue.

  Then the rush was on. Up from the midst of the struggling mass camethe class call of the Sophomores. It was followed at once by the classcry of the Freshmen. Soon the campus was alive with students hurryingsingly and in groups toward the scene of the conflict.

  Freshmen and Sophomores darted at once into the thick of the fight,while the Juniors and Seniors, moving about on the outskirts of thebattleground, cheered and encouraged alternately the contendingfactions.

  Van Loan had struggled to his feet as the center of battle moved awayfrom him, and looked down ruefully and in speechless anger at hissoiled and dripping garments.

  "Don't look very pretty, do they?" said a smiling Junior who stood by.

  The victim of the drenching did not deign a reply. He jerked off hiscoat, and began wringing the water from it. Suddenly he asked: "Who wasit, anyway? What coward threw me down?"

  "A young fellow by the name of Parmenter," was the answer; "afirst-class all-around athlete. I shall be happy to introduce you tohim at some more opportune moment."

  Van Loan did not relish the bantering tone of his informant; andmuttering something more about cowards and bullies, he turned savagelyon his heel, and started across the campus toward his room.

  But a second thought appeared to come to him; for in the next momenthe swung himself quickly about and ran, as fast as his heavy garmentswould permit him to, toward the crowd that was still struggling overhis hat and cane.

  He forced his way desperately into the center of the group and throughit, looking for Parmenter, his wet clothing like ice upon his body, buta fire of hate raging in his heart.

  It was not long before Van Loan's hat was in shreds; but the cane,heavy and tough, resisted all the violence brought to bear upon it,and remained unbroken. Wherever it was, there was the center of thefight. The struggling group about it moved here and there, now swiftly,now slowly, swaying and parting, meeting and clinging, the dark masslooking from a distance, in the moonlight, like some huge monstertwisting and writhing in pain.

  Hats were lost and trampled upon. Coats were torn from the backs oftheir owners, clothes were rent and ruined--everywhere the campus wasstrewn with the debris of personal belongings.

  Shifting back and forth by degrees, the surging mob finally reached apoint in the driveway near the corner of South College.

  Suddenly, the mass being rent by some swift convulsion, Parmenterdarted from the midst and ran rapidly along the drive toward the mainentrance to the building. He held Van Loan's cane in his hand. In aninstant Van Loan was at his heels, with Lee a good third.

  From the crowd that pressed forward toward them came hoarse shouts ofencouragement and wild yells of anticipated victory. The non-combatantswho stood by joined in the cheers, and hurried on after the racers.

  Those who watched closely saw that Parmenter, notwithstandin
g theswiftness of his gait, limped as if he had been hurt. They saw, too,that Van Loan was gaining on him; and more than one person, markingthe look of desperate desire in Van Loan's face, feared that it meantserious mischief.

  When Parmenter reached the stone pavement in front of the buildings VanLoan was near enough to grasp him, but he did not do so. He kept onuntil pursuer and pursued were side by side; then turning sharply andsuddenly, he thrust out his foot and struck Parmenter's feet from underhim. The young man was hurled headlong to the pavement.

  He fell on his side and shoulder. The blow of his fall was heard abovethe storm of shouts and cheers that followed him. In an instant VanLoan had seized the cane, and flourished it for a second in heroicattitude above the prostrate body of his victim. Then finding Leealmost within touch, he turned and ran with it into an open doorway ofSouth College.

  But Lee did not follow him; he stopped where Parmenter lay in themoonlight, white-faced, limp, and unconscious, with flowing bloodstaining the pavement under his head.

  "He's hurt!" cried Lee, frightened at his friend's appearance, andbending over him in deep anxiety. "He's hurt! Maybe the brute haskilled him! Here, give us a lift; let's carry him in! Rob, run forDoctor Park--run!"

  The crowd, suddenly quieted, pressed forward toward the point whereParmenter lay. Half a dozen of his classmen had already lifted him intheir arms, and a moment later they were carrying him, hurt, helpless,still unconscious, across the moonlit campus to his room.

  But the fight was won. Van Loan's stroke, cruel and revengeful thoughit was, had placed victory in the hands of the Freshmen. Henceforthevery man in the class was entitled, by virtue of the time-honoredstudent law, to wear a high hat and carry a cane whenever and whereverhe might choose to do so.